


Spamalot One-Shot Collection

by CaptainDisney



Category: Monty Python's Spamalot
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I wrote these for the spam fam, Individual tags before each chapter, Multi, Nothing higher than a T rating, One Shot Collection, Various AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22407913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDisney/pseuds/CaptainDisney
Summary: A series of short stories I wrote for the Spamalot Discord server, some of which can be found on my Tumblr
Relationships: Bedevere/Galahad (Monty Python and the Holy Grail), Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Prince Herbert (Monty Python and the Holy Grail)/Lancelot du Lac, Tim the Enchanter/French Taunter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. And They Were Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dennis would rather be with his roommate than stay for that wild party.  
> Bedehad College AU

Dennis drifted toward the dormitory, trying to collect himself before he reached his destination. He knew people would be questioning him tomorrow. He never left a party that early, and his shoddy excuse of having to study for his civics test would only get him so far. Most of his classmates had been there, and despite their varying degrees of intoxication, they obviously knew it was a filthy lie.

And yet, they gave him little trouble as he left. Looking, back, though, Dennis sort of wished they’d convinced him to stay. Not that he was nervous, of course. Definitely not. Or rather, not that he would admit to it.

Before he knew it, he was standing in the common room. It was dark and empty, a stark contrast against the lively party he had escaped.

Would he be here? Of course he’d be here, Dennis thought. His roommate had never been one to socialize often. In fact, most would describe him as a bit of a hermit.

But Dennis knew better. Sure, Steve Bedevere was, well, quirky, but the few who ventured to know him were able to see the pure soul behind his unusual exterior.

Sure enough, a bright light was coming from the other side of the room. A figure, facial features hard to decipher due to the glare, sat on the couch in front of it. Dennis knew that figure anywhere. He sidled up to him, swallowing any apprehension he had.

He sat down beside his roommate carefully, not wanting to disturb him. There was something almost endearing about him, a small smile on his face, slightly leaned forward so as to not miss a word. Dennis took a deep breath to steady his heart.

Steve turned to him. “How was the party?”

“Oh, it was okay, I guess.” Dennis tried to sound nonchalant. “Not the greatest, though.” It was a partial truth; it had been fun at first, but no matter how many people tried to get him to dance, part of him inexplicably longed to be back home with a certain young man, watching… whatever it was he’s watching.

Back home. Interesting choice of words, he thought.

“What episode is this, anyway?” He asked.

“Spock’s Brain.” Steve rolled his eyes. “The worst.” Despite this, he was clearly enjoying himself, a goofy grin on his face. Dennis placed a hand over his heart and breathed in sharply, as if he could stop whatever it was he was feeling.

“Are you alright?”

Dennis moved his hand away. “I’m fine. Maybe a little tired.” He lied.

Steve cocked his head . “Do you need to go back to the room?”

“No!” Dennis clamored. “No. I’d rather…”

Steve’s eyes glanced back and forth, as if he was trying to connect the dots. As smart as he was, it sometimes took him quite a while to understand some things. Dennis didn’t even know whether he wanted him to or not. He forced himself to look away, studying the wall beside him.

He was brought back when he felt Steve shifting beside him, now seated closer. Dennis responded by making his way toward him, testing how far he could go. This went on for a while, each inching toward the other, until they were pressed against one another.

With a contented sigh, Dennis rested his head on his roommate’s shoulder.


	2. Through And Through And Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's moving on, but Robin isn't ready.  
> Angst and Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated A for Anxiety

It was supposed to be a happy occasion. It was a celebration. After countless days and nights, they were finally back in Camelot to party until they passed out. Get some drinks and dance on the tables. Tell tales of their quest. Laugh loudly and shamelessly. After all, it was their last day together.

Robin always had this fear in the back of his mind, but it had seemed so far away at the time. Now here he was, faced with the harsh reality. After tonight, everyone will have moved on.

King Arthur, well, was king, and thus had a kingdom to run. That couldn’t be an easy job. Fortunately for him, he was to be aided by his new wife, Guinevere.

That must be harder. She had to help run a kingdom AND keep an eye on Arthur. She had her work cut out for her, but if Gwen was anything, she was determined. They’d both be fine. Besides, if they needed any additional help, they had good ol’ Patsy.

Galahad was to return home to his mother, with the money and land he had acquired. He had said how he wanted to help the mud farmers of his village. Something about the underprivileged. It was probably the more noble thing to do, rather than laying around all day in his excess. Underneath all that pretty hair was a heart of gold.

Bedevere also wanted to make a difference, albeit in a different way. He was the intelligent one of their party, so naturally he wished to learn more about the world. Anyone who had the pleasure of meeting him soon discovered his head was constantly abuzz with theories and ideas. He could easily be a top scientist or a best-seller.

Lancelot. Where to begin? Robin’s closest friend. The macho, violent man had a hard life. Of all the places he thought he’d end up, a comfortable castle with a loving husband wasn’t one of them, but he definitely deserved it. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but he was loyal. And caring.

And they all were loyal and caring. And trustworthy. And the best people Robin had ever known. And they were family. His family.

And in several short hours, they’s be gone.

“Robin, are you alright?” A voice brought him back from his downward spiral. Turning around, he was face to face with King Arthur himself.

“Oh, y-yes.” He stammered. “I’m fine. Just need some air is all.” He thought he heard him say something in response, but he was too busy running to catch it.

Everything was a blur as Robin made his way through the crowds. It took him a moment to register that he was now outside. The sky was dark, stars twinkling down on him. He sighed. They were running out of time, and he was wasting it.

One last night with the party. One more time running away.

So there he sat beneath the stars, alone with his thoughts.

“Lepus.” Robin jumped. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his friends. “And right here’s Orion.” Bedevere was pointing at the sky as the others gathered around him in varying degrees of interest. Meanwhile, Arthur was staring right at him, making his best I-most-definitely-was-not-looking-for-you face.

Lance broke away from the group, moving to sit next to him. “Robin! You’re missing the fun!”

Robin forced a smile, giving them all a small wave. “What brings you out here?” Immediately Arthur stepped back, acting innocent.

“Oh, you know. We were about to get Shirley Temples. Care to join us?” He asked.

“We were worried.” Galahad shot Arthur a look.

“You weren’t supposed to say anything!” He whisper-yelled.

“No use lying to him!”

The two continued bickering, prompting Bedevere to roll his eyes and join on Robin’s other side.

Robin heaved. “Thank you, but I’m alright.” He looked down at the ground. “And I thought you didn’t like Shirley Temples.”

“Enough playing. We know something’s wrong.” Lance had placed a hand on his shoulder. The others had since stopped fighting and were now sitting with a group, forming a circle. “You can talk to us. What’s bugging you?”

He pulled away. “Will you please just let me think?” He didn’t mean to snap, but looking around at everyone’s faces, they didn’t seem too upset.

“You’re not going to feel any better until you let us know what’s wrong.” Bedevere added. He was right, he supposed. And since when was everybody so emotionally intelligent? Oh well.

“I…” He began shakily. “I’m really going to miss all of you.” He didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes, lest he lose whatever dignity he had left. He didn’t need anyone watching him cry like some baby.

Silence. Robin swallowed the lump in his throat. And then, laughter.

“Is that what this was all about?” Everyone seemed so relaxed, and it felt like being punched.

“Quit laughing at me, I’m serious!”

“We’re not laughing at you.” Arthur smiled kindly at him. “We’re just relieved.”

Galahad propped himself up on his elbows. “We’re not leaving forever, you know.”

Robin sniffed despite himself. “Yes, I know.” He was probably being ridiculous, but he didn’t really care at that point. “But it’s going to be strange without you. And what if we’re never all together again? You’re all-” He took a deep breath. “Family.”

“If you’re so worried about that,” Arthur began. “I believe we should make it a point to have reunions. We could even go on another quest one day!”

“Maybe God’s misplaced his plate this time.” Galahad laughed, and Robin had to smile.

“Until then, Swamp Castle is always open to you.” Lance offered. “Herbert’s been dying to talk to you about your latest project.”

“You may also visit my study, if you don’t mind the witches.” Bedevere added.

“I wouldn’t recommend my village though, unless you want to be cleaning mud off of yourself for days.” Galahad shrugged.

Arthur shifted ever so slightly. “And we’d all love to have you visit the castle. Just don’t try to show up Guinevere.” He winked.

Robin felt the stinging sensation of tears threatening to escape his eyes again, but this time was different. “Thank you. All of you.”

Bedevere stood up first. “Are we doing this?” He asked, arms outstretched. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by his family, who were squeezing the life out of him, but he wasn’t complaining. There’s no way they’d agree to a group hug any other time, so he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Despite not being able to breathe, Robin had never felt better.


	3. The Sun Will Rise Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mama liked to sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nongraphic death

Steve padded down the hall toward the soft candlelight. It was a short walk to the study, but to him it felt like an eternity. The door was open a crack, the dim light escaping his only guide.

Slowly, he reached out his hand, trembling slightly. He drew in a breath and pushed open the door. The hinges let out a quiet squeak. It was too late to turn around now.

There sat Mama, reading a book. She was humming to herself, occasionally scribbling a note. Looking up from her work, she smiled at him. “What are you doing up this late?” She chuckled.

“I can’t sleep.” He kicked at the ground.

“Come in.” She motioned. Steve stepped into the room toward his mother. The candle’s flame illuminated her face, and in his sleep-deprived state, she seemed almost otherworldly. She reached out to grab him, her hands strong yet gentle, and lifted him onto her lap.

“What are you working on, Mama?” He tilted his head as he stared at the clutter on her desk.

She turned him around to have a look. “I think I’ve almost worked out a cure for Swamp Measles.” Steve eyed the papers, not quite understanding what they said but nonetheless impressed.

He yawned as he adjusted himself in his mother’s arms. “Wow.” He whispered.

“Oh, I know what you need.”

“What?” He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about, but he didn’t want to be the one to bring it up.

“The stars from high up in the sky…” Mama began. Her voice was low and silvery. “A watchful eye they keep.”

Steve yawned again as he listened to his mother’s long tones.

“On all the children of the Earth,” she continued. She was running her fingers through his hair now, and he blinked slowly at her. “And guard them as they sleep.”

“Close your eyes, my darling,” He couldn’t help but obey. A stirring motion temporarily caught his attention. He could tell Mama was standing now, but he was too drowsy to really care.

“And dream throughout the night.” Steve could hear Mama’s footsteps as she carried him down the hall.

Finally, she set him down back in bed. “For the sun will rise tomorrow and greet you with its light.” Mama tucked him in tightly and kissed him on the forehead. Steve opened his eyes once more, just in time to watch her leave the room.

-

Steve had been reading a book when the men came.

“Edith!” They yelled from outside. “Get Edith!”

His sister, Lisa, put down her toy. A look of distress grew on her face and he grabbed her tiny hand. “Stay here.” Sure, she couldn’t move around much yet anyway, but Steve needed something to say. “I’ll look for Mama.”

The voices outside were getting louder. They had started pounding on the door.

He stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him so his baby sister didn’t see him trembling. “Mama?” He called into the darkness. “Mama, where are you?”

She was standing in the study. Her face was pale, eyes wide.

Mama was afraid.

Steve had never seen Mama afraid before. She seemed immune to it. There was always a perfectly logical explanation for everything, so there was no reason to be afraid.

If something scared Mama, it must be bad.

“What’s happening?” Somebody outside must have brought a torch, because Steve could now see the silhouettes of the crowd from behind the curtain. He tried to count the people, but quickly gave up. All the while, that awful banging was getting louder and louder. Shaking, he brought his hands up to cover his ears.

“Go to your room.” It sounded like they were trying to take the door off its hinges.

“But what’s happening?”

“I said go!” Steve flinched. Mama never yelled.

She sighed, and her anger changed into something else. She grabbed him by the arms, pulling him into a hug. “I love you so much. Take care of your sister.”

“Wait!” Steve cried out in vain. With a kiss on the head and a push in the direction of his bedroom, she was off.

Who were these people, and why were they after Mama? Steve needed answers. Despite his better judgement, he peeked around the corner. The door was wide open now, the crowd forcing their way in.

“You can’t hide anymore!” Some men grabbed her roughly, and she pulled away. “We know your kind!”

Steve bolted back to the other room, where his sister was beginning to fuss. He picked her up and held here close, trying desperately to get her to quiet down. “Shh,” he started bouncing her. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” She eventually calmed down and was starting to fall asleep. He put her down on the bed before returning to the door, pressing an ear against it.

“Please, no!” Mama shrieked.

“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” No. It couldn’t be. They wouldn’t think she… “Take her to the square!”

His body slid down the door as his mind raced. Mama was no witch. She was a knowledgeable and kindhearted lady. She studied how the world worked and taught others. She seemed to know everything, and yet she was never stuck up about it. She was a scholar. A healer. She was practically the glue that held the town together.

Once he had gathered himself, Steve stood as best he could on his shaking legs and made his way outside. He couldn’t quite see what was going on; everyone towered over him. They seemed to be closing in on him, trapping him. Yet he pressed on. He wormed his way through the mob. Closer and closer. Toward the light, toward the screams.

And there was Mama, struggling helplessly against her ropes. Completely at the mercy of the horde. “Let me go, I’m not a witch!” Her voice pierced through the calamity, and yet nobody seemed to listen.

“Mama!” He couldn’t fight his tears any longer. “No!” He wanted desperately to reach out to her, to crawl into her arms, to hear her say it’s all going to be okay. If she said it, it must be true, right?

Mama dropped her head, heaving a sigh.

“The stars from high up in the sky, a watchful eye they keep-” She strained, her own face red as well. The men approached slowly, and yet all too fast. “On all the children of the Earth, and guard them as they… sleep.” Her voice was wobbly, and she gasped when they threw their torches at the base of the pyre.

“Close your eyes, my darling,” She sounded more like she was begging him at this point. Not that he could see very well; the smoke caused his eyes to water more than they had been previously.

“And dream throughout the night,” her voice cracked along with the kindling. “The sun-” She stopped abruptly, instead letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

“M-mama?” Steve stuttered. He was only met with the cheers of the crowd and the roar of the flame.

He fell to his knees, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry


	4. He Likes to Dance a Lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wants to learn ballroom dancing before Herbert's coronation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, with a brief sexual innuendo

“Are you sure you want to do this, Lancey?” Herbert asked. “Nobody’s saying you have to.”

“But I want to.” His husband answered, nodding. “It’s your coronation, after all.”

The two were the only figures in the large ballroom, and while Swamp Castle wasn’t the most opulent of locales, Lancelot couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. Part of him wanted to turn around, but Herbert had done so much for him. He wanted, no, needed to return the favor any way he could.

“Besides, it’s not every day you hold balls.”

“You know that’s not true.” Herbert winked, and Lance felt heat rising into his cheeks. He fiddled with the collar on his nightshirt, forcing himself to refocus his attention to the matter at hand. His husband, in just a few short days, was to be crowned king. There would be a dance, and while he did enjoy dancing (a lot), Lance had no formal knowledge on the topic.

“Just teach.” He tried sounding stern, but Herbert’s small laugh just proved how much it didn’t work.

Herbert held out his hands, prompting Lance to take them. “Alright, you’re going to go like this.” Slowly he guided his hands, and Lance felt his throat go dry. Sure, they’d been married for some time now, but Herbert had a sort of magic about him that made him fall in love again every day. He always knew just how to make him melt.

Lancelot forced his gaze up from his hands to his husband’s eyes. “Very good!” Herbert praised. It was the kind of praise a parent gives a child for remembering to wash their hands, but he didn’t mind. “Now, onto the basic step. It’s a waltz, so the music will be in three.” Lance nodded, even though he didn’t quite understand.

“One, two, three.” Herbert counted off before taking a step. Lance fumbled a bit at first, not used to being led around like that. “That’s my foot, Dear.”

Lance quickly moved his foot off his husband’s. “Sorry.” He watched the ground as they continued.

“And my eyes are up here.” Herbert flashed him a playful smile.

They continued like this for a while, Lance slowly allowing himself to be swept along the floor. Everything around him seemed to fade away and, despite a few hiccups, he felt he was making good progress. He was dancing. Really dancing!

Before he knew it, they had slowed down, Herbert gently pulling away. “Great job.” He kissed him on the hand. “Shall we continue this tomorrow? I need my beauty sleep.”

“Herbert, you know you’re always beautiful to me.” Lance offered. All the same, a quick peek out the window revealed to him a starless night, the moon directly overhead, barely poking out from behind the clouds. “What can I expect tomorrow, favorite teacher?” He stood behind his husband, wrapping his arms around him.

“I don’t know. Maybe some of this.” With that, Herbert had wriggled free from his arms to spin him around. “Or this.” He actually managed to dip him, caressing his face. Lance felt himself flush again. Herbert was much stronger than he had thought!

Taking a moment, Lance focused on how much had changed since they had met. Herbert was no longer the sickly prince he had rescued. He had a soft glow about him now, and his sun-kissed face displayed a smattering of freckles across his nose. He smiled more and laughed openly, and twirled around the castle as he sang his heart out.

Evidently, he had regained his arm strength as well.

“Whatever you say, my liege.” Lancelot replied as he righted himself, following it with a kiss on the lips.

“Now let’s get to sleep, Dearest.” Herbert smiled at him again, half-lidded.

“Wait, one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“My feet are killing me. Carry me?”

With a sigh, Herbert scooped him up and whisked him away.


	5. Beddie Positivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days, Bedevere is insecure. Fortunately, Dennis knows just how to make him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and dirty jokes

A soft light through the window woke Galahad up. He groaned as he sat up in the bed, groggily rubbing at his eyes. It felt too empty. His gaze moved around, searching for his partner.

At last he found Bedevere standing in front of the mirror, illuminated by a sliver of sunshine peeking from behind the curtain. "Up bright and early," he thought. He watched him as he pulled on his clothes: a pair of shorts and a button-down shirt. Classic Beddie. Sure, he dressed like trash, but he was Dennis' trash, not to mention he was quite hot as well.

And yet something was off this time. Galahad didn't have to see his facial features to sense his discomfort. He could've sworn he heard a sigh from where he stood, and the way he slumped his shoulders made him want to grab him and not let go until he was okay. "Morning, Beddie," he said softly.

"Dennis." He responded, hardly looking away from his reflection as he pulled the unbuttoned shirt around him. He held the front together with his hands and examined himself.

Galahad stood up and walked over to his boyfriend. "Everything alright?" He asked as he embraced him from behind.

"Can I have your opinion?" Bedevere inquired, moving his hands back and forth, opening and closing his shirt.

Galahad stepped toward the window. "At least let me see you!" With that he pulled apart the curtains. Bedevere hissed like a vampire and covered his body.

"Leave the shirt open," said Galahad. "It's hot out."

Bedevere turned away. "I know it's hot out. It's summer!"

"Besides, I can check you out better." He winked. Bedevere shook his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He replied wistfully, peering down at his exposed skin.

It finally clicked. "One of those things, is it?" He grabbed his partner's hand, dragging him back to bed. "Come on, you know the drill. Get your cute butt over here."

Despite a bit of protest on Bedevere's end, the two were soon spooning on the mattress. Galahad slowly moved his fingers through his boyfriend's dark curls, while his other hand gently drifted up and down his body. "You're so beautiful." He whispered in his ear. Bedevere grumbled as he curled in on himself. "Stop that. It's true." He planted a kiss on the back of his head, which prompted him to squirm. "You get me going like nobody else." Another kiss. "You're sex on legs."

"And you're cheesy." Bedevere elbowed him. Still, he could tell by laughter in his voice that it was working.

"I thought you liked cheesy." Galahad teased. "Speaking of, what does the sign on an out-of-business brothel say?"

"What?" He sighed.

"Beat it, we're closed." Bedevere actually snorted, and if it wasn't the cutest thing...

"Thanks, Denny." He grabbed Galahad's wandering hand and squeezed it.

"Any time, Beddie Bear." He wrapped his arms around him tighter, and he swore to himself he'd never let go. "Now, what's the difference between a pregnant woman and a lightbulb?"

"What's a lightbulb?"


	6. A Match Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur desperately wants to get rid of Tim! But how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crack and romance

Arthur was hungry.

He opened his eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them. It must've been about midnight. Gwen was still fast asleep behind him, her strong arms wrapped around him like he was a teddy bear.

While it was tempting to stay put and bask in Gwen's warmth, he didn't want to disturb her with a case of the rumblies. He steeled himself for a moment before he wriggled out of her grasp. She blindly felt around for him at first, not stopping until he tucked the extra blanket around her.

Lighting a candle and pulling on some pants, Arthur shuffled to the kitchen.

"Whit ur ye daein'?"

Arthur yelped, but quickly quieted himself.

"Tim? What in Heaven's name are you doing here?"

The eccentric enchanter was perched on the counter like a parrot. "What does it look like? I'm sleepin' ere tonight."

Was this a dream? This had to be a dream. Arthur always had weird dreams after Shakshuka Saturday. He used his free hand to pinch himself.

Nope, definitely not a dream.

Setting down the candle and picking up a broom that was propped against the wall, Arthur waved it at his house guest. "Get off of my counter, you strange creature! Go on! Shoo!"

Tim hissed as he crawled off the counter. "Yer no fun anymore." He teleported, presumably to the guest room, in a puff of smoke.

"Arthur, Honey, is everything alright?" Gwen groggily asked from the doorway.

"Yes, I'm just sleepwalking." Arthur blatantly lied, but she either didn't notice in her tired state or just didn't care. "Carry me back to bed?" He held his arms up like a toddler. Gwen obliged, scooping him up into her arms.

Arthur figured whatever leftovers there were could wait. He had lost his appetite, anyway.

-

"My most trusted friends," Arthur began, addressing his knights. "I am afraid to inform you that the kingdom is facing a threat unlike any other before."

"Is it the French? We can take the French!" Lancelot stood up, immediately drawing his sword.

Arthur shook his head. "No, it's not the French." Lance sadly sheathed his sword and sat back down, Robin patting him on the back. 

"Oh, have the people finally decided to revolt? They've finally seen the flaws of monarchy?" Galahad was practically bursting. "See, rather than passing the rule down based on lineage and giving favor to the bloated aristocracy with their excessive hoarded wealth, the power should go to the common folk. They make up most of the population after all, so why should they have to worry about whether or not they can feed their families while the lucky few get to sit all high and mighty and laugh? It's barbaric! We should redistribute their assets equally among the people to ensure that everyone has enough to take care of their basic human needs and even partake in some luxuries. Do you really need a second summer home on the coast of Penzance while there are people freezing to death in the streets?" He slammed his fist on the table, foaming at the mouth.

Arthur blinked at him. "Uh, no? What was all that?" He'd have to be sure to get a dictionary. "Doesn't matter. I've called you all in here to discuss far more important things."

"Sire, what could possibly be more important than the good of the people?" Galahad asked, a little more calm.

"It's Tim! He's moved in, and he's been driving me absolutely bonkers!" Arthur put his head in his hands. "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't do anything! He's always right there!" He sobbed grossly for a few seconds. Once he got it out of his system, he looked back up, regaining his kingly composure. Everyone was gawking at him but he didn't really care.

"Have you tried asking him to leave?" Bedevere suggested.

Arthur nodded. "He keeps coming back! Just when I think I'm rid of him, BAM!" He pounded the table, causing his knights to flinch. Robin screamed, and Lancelot started whispering to him. "He reappears like... like magic!"

"I don't know what you want us to do about it." said Galahad. "I'm not about to evict someone with a level ten fireball."

"Why don't we just kill him?" Lance proposed, still holding his shaking friend.

"No!" Bedevere yelled. "We can't kill him! He's our ally!"

Galahad rolled his eyes. "Right. We all know you fanboy over him."

"I do not fanboy!"

"Don't kid yourself Bed, have you seen yourself around him?"

"We're not killing him!"

"You're avoiding the question."

Arthur had quite enough. "Everyone!" The arguing ceased. "Good. Now, back to the matter at hand." He turned to Robin. "You've been quiet. Do you have any ideas?"

Robin cleared his throat. "Well, there is one thing."

"Yes? What is it?" He didn't care what it was; he was so desperate to have his castle back that he would try anything.

"Perhaps we could take him on a trip?" He offered. "He used to roam around Britain and see everything. Maybe he's forgotten how much he enjoys it?"

"Good thinking, Buddy!" Lance gave him a playful noogie. "Use that braincell!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "How about a vote? All in favor?" Everyone raised their hands. That was easy enough. "It's settled, then. Let's take Tim out for some fresh air."

-

"This is glaikit."

Arthur and his knights of the round table were riding about, coconuts clapping together. Tim had decided on simply walking behind them all and acting like he didn't know them.

"Come on, Tim! Let loose!" He urged his grumpy companion. "Feel the breeze blowing through your... horns."

"I'll be daein' nae such thin'!" Tim crossed his arms as he trudged along. "Jis' hurry up sae I can finally take a nap. Where are ye takin' me, anyway?"

"Is it not enough to enjoy some traveling in the company of friends?"

Tim finally shut up for a while, much to everyone's obvious relief. They rode through hills and meadows and woods, sharing stories of past misadventures, singing songs, telling jokes, and generally having a good time. Arthur could've sworn he saw Tim smile once or twice, which was promising. He eventually got in on the fun, telling tales of great beasts and enchanted forests.

Everything went south when they encountered a familiar castle.

"Who goes there?" A man poked his head over the battlements. "Stupid English king and his nose-picking kaniggets!"

Great. Him.

"Good sir, we mean you no harm. We come as simple travelers on this day."

"Do not speak at me, you disease-ridden mass of repugnance!"

"If you do not stop taunting us, we will have to use our enchanter!" He gestured toward Tim, who was smirking.

"You do not frighten me, you... you ocular depravity to all of discrimination!"

"Tim, do your thing." Arthur led his knights back away from what was sure to be a great story to tell later over drinks.

Tim didn't do anything. He was just standing there, staring up at the castle wall.

"Yer a nasty little man!" He called out, though he didn't seem malicious.

The French taunter gasped. "Sacré bleu, your accent is outrageous!"

"I could say th' same abit ye!"

"Finally!" He shouted, presumably to someone next to him. "Fetchez la catapulte!"

Well, that would probably be the last time they saw Tim. At least he wouldn't fall asleep in Arthur's bathtub anymore. He did feel a bit of remorse, though. He imagined being squashed by a cow couldn't be at all pleasant. They were quite heavy, or so he had been told.

Meanwhile, the angry French man was loading himself into the catapult, and- what?

"I am coming, mon petit chou!" Somebody launched him, and he came flying down from the wall, landing perfectly in Tim's arms.

"Ah, you're quite th' looker up close!" He held him close, playing with his mustache. "People call me Tim. And you are, ye madman?"

Arthur loudly cleared his throat. "We're about to head off. Should we wait for you?"

"Go on without me. I think I like this one."

With that, the knights rode back home. Though it was indeed strange, those two were a match made in... well, they were a match. And more importantly, Tim was out of his hair! Who knew, perhaps he would face less trouble from the French from there on out.

-

Arthur stumbled toward the kitchen. There was bound to be some extra knish in there, right? Just a quick snack and then back to bed.

"Bonne nuit, you babbling ninny!" Tim and his new boyfriend were sitting on the counter, armed with fruit. "Un, deux, trois!" They pelted him with the produce, not stopping until he turned around and slammed the door.

No more midnight snacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timter is awful and I love it  
> I used like 4 different dictionaries


	7. Braid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur learned something new, and can't wait to try it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwenthur fluff

"Gwen, I'm back!" Arthur opened the door to the bedchamber, where his wife was laying down and reading a book. "Did you miss me?"

"Every second." She smiled warmly at him. He sat down beside her and she planted a kiss on his cheek.

Arthur had only been gone for an hour at the most, really. In fact, he hadn't even stepped foot outside the castle. They both knew he was just across the hall and down a few stairs, and that he was simply visiting with one of his knights.

"How was your little meeting with Galahad?" Guinevere asked with a wink.

"It was productive as always." Arthur nuzzled his wife's shoulder as he spoke. "I'm glad we recruited him. He has many skills."

Gwen laughed, and it was like music in the air. "So you're getting along now?"

Arthur nodded. "He, uh..." Why was he suddenly so nervous? All he had to do was ask. "He taught me something new today." Swallowing hard, Arthur pushed forward. "And I'd like to try it. On you."

"Oh? What would that be?" She kissed him on the nose, and it took all of his resolve not to completely melt into her arms. There would be plenty of time to cuddle later. Right now, he had plans.

Arthur patted the space in front of him, urging her to sit. She obliged, now facing away from him, her legs crossed.

He ran his hands through her hair, marveling at the softness of her dark waves. Slowly, he gathered it into sections and began braiding, being careful not to pull.

Gwen seemed to catch on to what he was doing and let out a little giggle. It was like music to Arthur's ears. Everything about her was just too perfect, and he couldn't help but think about how blessed he was to be loved by her.

"Are you going to make me pretty, Artie?" She asked, and though she still had her back turned, Arthur could tell by the lilting of her voice that she was beaming.

"Make you pretty? You're already the most beautiful person in the world." He stopped interlacing her hair long enough to kiss her on the back of her head. He wanted to drown in her scent, fresh and sweet like spring rain.

"Oh, stop it!" Gwen laughed.

"Why would I stop?" Holding onto the end of the braid with one hand, Arthur felt around for a hair tie. "You don't happen to have a..."

Gwen shifted on the bed, moving her feet back onto the ground. "Come with me. I keep some this way."

She stood up, Arthur following suit as he held onto her braid. Gwen walked him across the room to the dresser. There, she opened a small container. "Will this one work?" In her hand was a tiny, blue band.

"Perfect." He didn't really know if it was perfect, but he figured Gwen was probably right. She knew much more about hair than he did. "Let me just-" Pull and twist, pull and twist. Just like he was taught.

He lifted her hair and placed it over her shoulder. "Care to take a look, my queen?" They walked over to the mirror together, Arthur silently praying he had done a good enough job.

"Wow!" Gwen gazed at her reflection. "You did amazing, Dear!"

Arthur sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm glad you like it." It was a little loose and messy, some flyaway strands escaping here and there, but she still looked absolutely stunning. Unable to hold back any longer, he placed a big smooch on her cheek.

With a bounce of her shoulder, Gwen repositioned her braid to her back. "Kiss me for real." With that, she cupped his face, drawing him close to her own. Arthur could feel her warm breath as they gently brushed their lips together.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Arthur whispered against her as they separated.

Gwen wrapped her arms around him. "And I'm lucky to have you." She kissed him one more time on his forehead, and he felt his legs turn to jelly.

"Is it cuddle time?" He asked, clinging onto her.

She gently lifted him up. "Of course, King Cutie Pie." With that, she set him down on top of the mattress and crawled in next to him.

Perhaps Arthur would have to take another lesson.


	8. Of Mums and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedevere pays an important visit to Mrs. Galahad

It had started with a letter.

Under any other circumstances, Bedevere would've just shown up. It was no secret that Dennis loved him, and his mother had said many a time before that he was always welcome.

Except this time, he wasn't visiting for Dennis. In fact, he'd told Mrs. Galahad that he'd appreciate it if Dennis never knew of his visitation. She likely suspected something was up, but she had quickly sent him a reply with a date and time, and everything was falling into place.

Before he knew it, the day had come, and Bedevere was making his way through the old village he had grown to love. He reviewed his plan as he walked down the path. He just had to walk in, say how he felt, and ask the question. That couldn't be too hard. He loved Dennis with all his heart, and he could do anything if it meant spending a lifetime with him, even if it meant speaking.

Soon, Bedevere found himself facing his most fearsome adversary: a little wooden door. It was now or never. Mustering all his courage, he knocked lightly at the door. Mrs. Galahad quickly opened it, as if she had been standing behind it the entire time. Knowing her, she probably was.

"Hello there, Dearie!" She immediately wrapped him in a hug, which he enthusiastically returned. "It's great to see you again."

"Thank you for having me."

"No, thank you for coming." She'd pulled away by then, and was already ushering him inside. Mrs. Galahad seemed to naturally take charge in social situations, but Bedevere was grateful. He was, admittedly, a tad awkward. "Come in, sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

A few short minutes later, the two of them were seated next to each other, each with a cup of tea.

"Really," Bedevere began. "You didn't have to go through the trouble. It's only me." He laughed lightly, and Mrs. Galahad waved her hand.

"Oh, it's nothing." She smiled as she took a sip from her cup. "Ever since Dennis got that fancy knight job we've been able to splurge on occasion. And besides," she set her cup down. "I get the sense you're not just here to chat."

Bedevere found himself averting his eyes. "What gave it away?"

"The fact that you felt the need to write me. You said it was 'important matters' if I recall." She offered him a smile when his gaze returned.

"Right..." He took a moment to gather himself. If he got through this, he'd be one step closer to a life with the man he loves. "As you know, Dennis and I have been together for a long time now." He found himself beginning to fidget slightly. "And the more time we spend together, the more I love him." He examined her expression, searching for any signs of displeasure. She was still smiling at him, slowly nodding. "He deserves the world, and I promise to try my best to give it to him. I just don't want to spend a day without him."

Mrs. Galahad reached out to grab his hand. "You know Dennis and I both love you. Whatever it is you want, go ahead and say it." She gave his hand a motivational squeeze, and Bedevere drew in a breath.

"With your permission, I'd like to marry your son." For a moment, time stood still. He'd finally asked, and a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

Mrs. Galahad drew him close again. "Sweetie, of course!" She planted a kiss on his cheek and he had to laugh. "Honestly, I was wondering when one of you was going to say anything. I know you'll make each other very happy."

"Thank you so much," Bedevere said, voice muffled from being pressed into his future mother-in-law.

"Welcome to the family."


End file.
